Captain Obvious and The Wolf
by Chanooa
Summary: Stiles is tired of playing Scott's Robin, so he decides to be the hero for once, and solves the mystery of a prowler at Danny's house. The first of many mysteries to be solved by Captain Obvious. Only a little slash rated T . A collab with DJDarkPixi
1. Chapter 1

"This is really frickin' heavy, Stiles," Scott whined. "Are we even supposed to have it?"

"Well, my dad got a new one, so we're really just borrowing it from the police station," Stiles said, patting the old police radio that Scott was carrying. The two continued walking through the woods, dragging the old machine in the direction of the Hale house. The rolled-up sleeves of Scott's red jacket continually slipped down his arms as he lugged the ancient piece of technology through the woods. Mud flecked the hems of his jeans and his red converse, kicked up from beneath the leaves covering the forest floor; these annoyances were slowly testing Scott's patience as he helped his friend.

"Why do you even want this old piece of junk?" Scott asked impatiently.

"Would you just shut up and carry it?" Stiles snapped back. "We're almost at Derek's house."

"Good, I don't want to be here at night," Scott said, nervously eying the setting sun.

"Aww, is the big bad wolf scared of the woods?" Stiles teased. He saw the decrepit silhouette of the Hale house rising in the distance, a dark figure set apart from the red sun. It looked almost spooky, like something out of a horror movie. The gaunt trees surrounding it added to the effect. He realized that the perceived threat of the house was real, since a werewolf lived within it.

"Do you think Derek will be, uh, mad if we keep this in his house?" Stiles asked, suddenly nervous remembering the fact that the monster within the house could easily kill him. Despite the fact that he was wearing thick jeans, a sweater, and a t-shirt in the tepid spring night, the pale boy shivered.

"Yeah… probably," Scott said, stopping. He, too, wasn't keen on the idea of angering the Alpha of his werewolf pack.

"Huh… Well, I mean, we can't keep it at my house, and if your mom found it, she'd probably tell my dad. But," Stiles looked at the house looming on the hill, "maybe we could find somewhere else."

"I have an idea," Scott said, deviating slightly from their course toward the house. He led Stiles to a little stone structure that was built into the ground like a hovel. There were metal bars preventing entry, vines wrapping around the metal, reclaiming it for nature. Leaves nearly covered the small arch, making it difficult to notice if one wasn't aware of its presence. Scott pulled on one of the bars, opening a small door.

The two crouched low, climbing into the underground tunnel. The floor was covered in dirt, with leaves spilling in from the opening, but dissipating as the path progressed. The walls were made of ancient-looking stone, with a thin wire holding up a string of small bulbs running the length of the ceiling. The new technology clashed with the Medieval-looking passage, making it seem like an excavation site. "Woah," Stiles said, marveling at the new found area, "is this your Batcave?"

"It's where I found Derek when Kate Argent kidnapped him," Scott said, opening a door at the end of the tunnel. Stiles continued to follow him through more creepy stone hallways, lit only by the dull glow of the bulbs. The intermittent sources of light left a few spaces of shadow between them, making the boys' shadows dance and disappear. Stiles found the overall effect very unsettling, feeling as if someone else were in the tunnel with them. Eventually, they reached a huge metal door, and Scott slid the old piece of rusted iron to reveal a room.

It was a small room made of stone, with a few wooden tables and some bars stretching between the ceiling and floor. A set of wooden steps led up one of the walls, and dust covered every surface. There were some metal tools on several tables, and Stiles realized with a sick drop in his stomach that they had been used as torture devices on Derek. The shadows in the room jumped and disappeared as Scott supplemented the small bulbs with a giant floodlight standing in a corner.

"Dude!" Stiles exclaimed, circling the room. "This is perfect! It's our Wolfcave."

"I'm still not sure why we need a Wolfcave," Scott said, setting the heavy radio down on a table.

"Because, we can solve crimes before the cops get there with this!" Stiles said excitedly. "Just think of us: Beating up bad guys with your superpowers and getting all the glory. Add some excitement to this crappy little town!"

"I think excitement is the last thing I need," Scott said, thinking about the dangers he knew lurked in Beacon Hills, including himself.

"Dude, you've been given a gift. With great power comes great responsibility," Stiles said, looking him in the eyes.

"So you want me to be Spiderman?" Scott said, making fun of Stiles' movie quote.

Stiles rolled his eyes, turning on the old radio. The machine looked like it was from the seventies, with faux wood covering it, and that odd cream color adorning the plastic parts. It was in poor condition, with many scratches and nicks, clearly something that had been used for too many years. He leaned in close, tuning the frequency so he could pick up the messages that the police officers of Beacon Hills sent out. After a lot of static, he found a clear channel.

"-we've got a prowler at 645 Litchfield Road, suspect seen by neighbors entering second-story window-" the radio crackled and became static again.

"Did you hear that?" Stiles said excitedly, turning to his friend.

"So what?" Scott said.

"That's Danny's aunt's house!" Stiles said. "Remember, he said he was house-sitting at practice? He invited Jackson over?"

"You really need to stop eavesdropping," Scott said.

"Fine, but what if Danny is in trouble?" Stiles said, eying his friend. "Wouldn't you feel responsible if you found out anything happened to him? Knowing that you had the knowledge and ability to help him, but you sat by and did nothing?"

Scott hated when Stiles twisted logic. He figured it wouldn't hurt to check it out, though. "Fine, we'll go," Scott said, rolling his eyes and lackadaisically shuffling out of the door. Stiles hopped ahead of him, excited to be living out his superhero dream.

They wound through the tunnels, emerging in the nearly-dark woods. They trudged through the leaves, heading toward the edge of the woods where Stiles' car was parked. A question had been bugging Scott. "So, why do you want to do this? I mean, you don't have any 'powers', so why do you feel responsible?" Scott asked, keeping his eyes down.

"I dunno," Stiles said. "I guess I feel helpful by doing this. Like, I'm not always the Robin to your Batman."

"Well good, now you can have your little Batman fantasy, and I'll be _your _Robin," Scott said, unhappy to hear this analogy once again. "Besides, I liked Robin."

"It sucks to be the powerless sidekick. Did anyone have a Robin poster in their bedroom? Nobody exactly aspires to be second best," Stiles said.

"I didn't exactly ask to be Batman," Scott said. "It's only because I have these weird… wolf powers."  
"Thank you, captain obvious, I wasn't aware," Stiles said sarcastically.

"Oh no," Scott said, "_you're _the hero here. _You're_ Captain Obvious. I'm just the sidekick."

Stiles rolled his eyes at his friend. "You know, I should have an awesome name. Like, The Shadow. Or you could be The Wolfman and I could be The Moon."

Scott now rolled his eyes at his friend. "Whatever… Captain Obvious."


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles parked his Jeep a few blocks away from his destination, taking the opportunity to sneak up on the prowler in Danny's aunt's house. He and Scott stuck to the shadows, making their way down the deserted road. He strained his human eyes, watching the numbers on the houses change.

641…643…645. He stopped in front of the large yellow house, surprised at how nice it looked. He realized that they were in something of a high-end neighborhood. The house was old, with white trimming and a perfectly manicured lawn and garden. It had delicate features, like so many old houses in the area did, with a gently curving roof, white lattice shutters, and small flowers blooming in the tidy little garden. The moonlight cast an almost eerie glow on the perfect little house, making it seem more like a dollhouse from a horror movie than an actual residence. A tall wooden fence surrounded the backyard, making it impossible to see beyond the façade of the building. All together, Stiles surmised that the house was rather innocuous.

"The perfect scene for a crime," he mumbled to himself.

"I don't think it looks that bad," Scott whispered in response.

Stiles rolled his eyes, humoring his sidekick. "Well, let's go look at the window where the suspect was seen entering."

The two crept around to the fence. Scott easily jumped over the tall wooden obstacle, landing in the backyard. He waited a moment for his companion before realizing that Stiles wouldn't be able to scale the sheer wall alone.

He jumped back over, getting a sour look from Stiles. "I thought I was supposed to be the hero," Stiles said.

"Yes sir, Captain Obvious," Scott teased. He lifted his friend by the shoulders, hoisting the two of them high in the air, and landing lithely on the grass in the backyard of the house. The moon was shining from the other side of the house, casting a shadow on the backyard, making it easy to hide in the darkness. This area seemed to keep up the same appearance of the front yard. The lawn was well manicured, the gardens were tamed and groomed, and the decorations were tasteful and bland. As they walked around, Stiles tried to get an idea of the incident that had been reported. He circled the area, seeing where the prowler jumped over the fence, crushing some flowers. He noticed a few roses on the ground next to the house. Walking over to them, he looked up to see that they'd fallen from a large, white, lattice-structured trellis that extended up to a second-story window.

"Scott!" he called to the boy. "Look, he must have climbed up there."

Scott followed his indication, looking at the path torn through the plants by the prowler. "Huh, someone definitely climbed up there," he said, observing the side of the house. Stiles wondered what was going through his sidekick's head as he looked at the crime scene. The gears in the boy's head were obviously turning.

Reminding himself that he was the hero now, Stiles ignored Scott's odd reaction. Instead, he grabbed onto the white wooden trellis, cramming his feet into the small holes between the boards. Slowly, he pushed upward, unsteadily scaling the side of the house. The thorns of the roses tore at his skin and clothing, slowing his progress.

When he reached high enough on the structure, Scott hopped aboard the trellis as well. He knew that without Stiles, he could quickly make his way up to the open window. Instead, he waited for his friend, letting the boy have his excitement.

After what felt like hours, the boys had moved nearly a foot. Scott decided to take hold of the situation, having run out of patience for the boy's human inabilities long ago. He pushed his head against Stiles' body, the top of his head pushing against the backs of his friend's knees. Stiles jumped at the new sensation, almost falling as his knees buckled. Stiles was unsure of what his friend was doing; the position was uncomfortable for both people involved.

Scott used his werewolf prowess to climb the trellis quickly, the force of his body moving upward forcing Stiles to move quickly as well. He used his inhuman strength, speed, and agility to claw his way up the wooden boards, the top of his head propelling the denim-covered legs of his friend upward at the same pace. Together, they reached the open window in nearly a quarter of the time it would've taken Stiles alone. Now, Stiles was holding on to the old wooden window sill, balancing on the very top of the trellis, with his sidekick clinging to the roses a few inches lower than him.

Scott removed his head from the close proximity to his friend, leaning over and saying "I'm just helping out like a good sidekick." If Stiles had been looking down at the boy, he would've seen the grin on his face.

This grin turned into a more serious expression. Now that he was closer to the window, he was sure he knew what he was smelling. It was a familiar scent, but he almost couldn't put a name to it. As he pondered, Stiles grabbed the window pane, hoisting his body through the curtains and into the room. Realizing what the scent was, Scott looked up, whispering "Stiles, no!" He saw his friend's feet disappear into the window before he could give a proper warning.

Stiles rolled skillfully on the wooden floor, quietly landing on his face. He steadied himself, letting his mind take in the scene as he regained his senses. The room looked old, with a few pieces of antique-looking furniture. There was an old oak vanity with a small metal stool in front of it, a wooden wardrobe that looked so old and baroque that it might lead to Narnia, and a dark, ornate four-poster bed with white sheets. It was obviously a bedroom. As the room stopped spinning, Stiles registered some people in the bed to his right.

He stood, heroically striking a pose. He saw a struggle taking place beneath the covers. The prowler had gotten in and was now assaulting his friend, Danny! Stiles leapt into action, pulling back the blanket and readying himself for the impending fight.

He heroically grabbed the pale assailant off of his friend, pulling the man to his feet and pulling his arms behind him. Using his free hand, he reached down, checking the prowler's pockets for any weapons like he'd seen his dad do. Suddenly, Stiles realized how hastily he'd gotten into the situation.

Taking a moment to analyze the scene in front of him, Stiles become conscious of the error he'd made. He saw Danny lying on the bed, his purple t-shirt looking rumple lying just above his bellybutton, showing off his tanned abs. The button on his jeans was undone, exposing a tiny bit of waistband of his underwear. The boy looked both bewildered and angry. Stiles looked down to realize that the person that he had in a headlock was Jackson. His pale, muscular torso was exposed, and his jeans were also unbuttoned. Stiles realized that he had not found a prowler who'd snuck into his friend's house and attacked up, but rather his two friends as a couple sharing a night together.

"I- radio… there was a prowler," was all Stiles could find the mental capacity to say.

Jackson turned around, ripping his arms free of Stiles' grip. Danny sat up on the bed, watching the scene play out. Jackson place a large hand on Stiles' shoulder, his face brimming with dark anger.

Scott stood on the grass outside of the house, feeling almost guilty. He'd realized that something was amiss before they even reached the house, but he didn't mention anything to Stiles. Climbing up the trellis, he couldn't exactly place the smell, since it was so out of place. Furthermore, the smell of Stiles and the heady scent of the blooming roses made the smell of the prowler less clear. Only once his Captain Obvious had entered the house did he realize what the scent was. He smelled his friend and teammate Jackson, mixed with a heavy odor of arousal.

Looking up at the window, he saw Stiles' head poking out. He watched as the boy came flying out of the window, hurdling towards the earth. Stretching out his powerful, tanned arms, he readied himself, catching his friend before he plummeted to the earth. Jackson stood in the window, looking satisfied with himself. His sensitive hearing could even pick up Danny inside, saying "You threw him out of the window?"

Scott looked down at his friend, a smile playing on his cute, crooked jaw. Stiles glared back from the boy's arms. "You knew, didn't you? You didn't tell me, but you could smell Jackson."

Scott's smile broadened. "Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious."


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles sat in the driver's seat of his old Jeep, silently watching the dark road ahead. Scott sat next to him, idly fingering a hole in his jacket, through which his brown t-shirt was exposed. He had his head resting against the window of the car, sleepily sprawled across the seat. He was beginning to feel kind of bad about setting up Stiles. Convincing himself that he didn't have the opportunity before his friend jumped through the window, Scott nonchalantly tried to break the awkward silence.

"So, did you suspect Jackson and Danny?" he said, trying to sound casual. When the silence persisted, Scott continued his efforts. "I mean, I knew Danny was gay, but I never would've dreamed that Jackson is. I mean, good for them, but why did they keep it a secret?"

Stiles stared icily at the road ahead. He wasn't usually so upset about things, especially when it came to his best friend. Scott wondered what about the situation made his friend have such a strong reaction. He knew that the boy was used to embarrassment by now, and had always been able to laugh off any situation before. Though, Scott figured that it was the first time he'd gotten caught in such a large-scale blunder. Furthermore, it probably hurt more knowing that his best friend and sidekick, who was supposed to help him, could have changed the outcome but decided to watch it play out instead. Feeling guilty, Scott opened his mouth to apologize.

Before he could get a word out, Stiles' cell phone rang. The boy groped his pocket, shifting in his seat to fit his hand in and fish out his phone. The Jeep swerved as he momentarily lost control, dividing his attention between the two tasks. Finally, he got the phone from his pocket and answered it, putting it on speakerphone so that he could focus on driving.

"Hello?" he said, setting the tiny machine on the dashboard.

"Stiles? It's Danny," a voice came through, sounding a bit garbled due to the bad reception so deep in the woods.

"Hey," Stiles said awkwardly, his face turning red as he thought about the previous events of that night. Scott couldn't help but stifle a laugh, earning him a punch on the shoulder from Stiles.

"Listen, I don't know what your problem is, but you really need to get out of my aunt's house. It isn't funny," the boy said through the phone.

Stiles looked at Scott, the humor having drained from both of their faces. "Danny, I'm nowhere near you. I'm on my way home."

"I'm not going to fall for it, Stiles. I know you're here, we can hear you downstairs," Danny said. Scott's stomach dropped, and he smelled fear mixed with excitement coming from his friend.

"Listen, I'm really not there," Stiles said urgently.

"He really isn't, we're in his car," Scott chimed in.

A light sound of static buzzed from the phone as the person on the other end went silent. They could faintly hear Jackson in the background asking "Was that Scott? What's wrong?"

"Listen, Danny, call the police," Scott said dutifully.

"Yeah, I-" Danny began, but a banging sound cut him off. They could hear the sounds of someone else moving around on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, whoever is there, I'm gonna fucking kill you!" they heard Jackson yell distantly. The banging continued, and the sound of wood smashing ensued. Suddenly, the line went dead.

The two boys rode in a somber silence for a few seconds, then Stiles swerved in a dangerous u-turn, making tire marks on the deserted road. Scott's head flew into the window, and then on the back of the seat as he tried to keep his balance through his friend's crazy driving. Now the boy was speeding through the woods, making his way back to where they'd come from at twice the speed. "Dude, Stiles, slow down," Scott said, panicking.

"You heard that! Something's obviously going down at that house," Stiles said, sounding serious. However, Scott could sense an excitement coming from his friend. He was happy to have actually found a case.

"Listen, Stiles, it was probably just a prank. They were just getting back at you for-" Scott stopped himself, feeling guilty again. He decided to let his friend have his fun and be the hero for once. Either way, he could tell that his sensible words weren't dampening Stiles' excitement in the least.

As they wound through the dark streets, Scott began to wonder if they'd be pulled over by the police. He tried to focus on the smells, trying to see if he could smell anything that could indicate police, or another driver that Stiles could hit. Though it was difficult to keep up with the boy's crazy driving, they managed to pull up to the curb in front of the house without running into anyone else.

For a few moments, the two boys sat in the Jeep, analyzing the dark lawn. Everything looked exactly as it had when they'd arrived earlier. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed, and there was no obvious sign that someone had come since they'd left. Stiles left the car first, locking the door behind him, Scott slipped out as his friend rounded around the hood. They stood together, both boys on their guard as they looked for any sign of danger. Slowly, they neared the house, traversing the well-manicured lawn. Scott heard the action taking place before there was any visual sign of the struggle that he heard. Stopping in his tracks, the boy focused his hearing on the sounds coming from inside. Not noticing that his friend stopped, Stiles continued to creep closer to the house.

Suddenly, one of the windows on the bottom level of the house smashed, Jackson appearing through the curtains and rolling onto the lawn. Both boys ran over to him, helping him up and brushing the broken shards of glass from his clothes. "Dude, what happened?" Stiles asked.

Jackson looked around, confused and bewildered. He seemed to realize where he was, taking stock of the people around him and the broken glass on the ground. "I-I have no idea. It… was dark, and someone… I guess, I mean, I don't know. I guess someone was there. And we went to see who it was and… and someone threw me out of the window… and… shit, Danny!" Jackson mumbled, his head slowly clearing.

He ran to the door, and the two boys followed him. He turned the handle, but it wouldn't move. Scott easily kicked the door down, and the trio ran into the dark living room. There were no lights on, the only illumination coming from the moonlight outside. The furniture in the room had an eerie presence, since every piece was covered in a white sheet. Jackson didn't seem surprised, so the two boys assumed the furniture had been covered since he'd gotten there.

The room was long and dark, with purple wallpaper and old oak floorboards. A small hallway wrapped around one corner, leading into another room. They stood at the staircase that led up from the doorway, unsure of where the unidentified assailant was. A piece of furniture on the far end of the room fell to the floor with a loud smack, the sheet falling from it. The three boys ran to the disturbance, looking for the source of the movement. Nothing seemed amiss except the fallen chair.

Suddenly, a dark figure hurried down the stairs, moving with unnatural speed. It walked backwards, dragging something down the stairs. He continued into the living room, headed for the hallway. They could now see that it was a man, though his face was shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat. He wore a long, black leather coat that hung to the floor, with heavy black boots and pants. His hair was long and greasy, matching the hat and jacket in its color. Overall, however, the tall, hulking presence had a bluish tint about him as he moved. As he entered the moonlight, the three boys could see that the man was carrying an unconscious Danny.

Jumping into action, Scott used his unnatural speed to chase the man, Stiles and Jackson at his heels. The nearly caught up with him, and Scott reached out a hand, grasping the hem of Danny's shirt. They rounded the corner into the small hallway, Scott swiping a clawed hand at the assailant. The wolf tumbled to the floor, Jackson and Stiles falling in a heap on top of him. The hallway was empty, the only sound breaking the silence being the panting of the three boys.

The dark wooden floors extended down the hallway, leading to a kitchen. There were no doors, and only a few windows, and a small table with a vase on it. There was nowhere that the man could've gone. The three stood, panting and unsteady as they got to their feet. Scott looked in his hand to see that he was still grasping the piece of Danny's shirt that he'd been holding on to. The two other boys looked at the purple fabric, unsure what to make of it.

"Where the hell did he go?" Jackson yelled, walking briskly down the hallway. He poked his head through the door, looking at the empty kitchen. "He couldn't have just disappeared, damn it!"

"He was… there, wasn't he?" Scott asked.

"Unless you've just been carrying around a piece of Danny's shirt," Stiles said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the empty hallway.

"People don't just disappear!" Jackson said, his cheeks reddening as sickly dark circles surrounded his eyes. "Where the fuck is Danny?"

The silence of the hallway weighed down on them for a moment, as if the emptiness were taunting them. This was broken by Jackson slamming a fist against the wall.

"Okay, let's calm down," Scott said, watching as Jackson painfully withdrew his bloody knuckles from the hole in the wall. "Have you called the police yet?"

"No, we… just checked it out ourselves," Jackson said moodily, nursing his bleeding hand.

"Well, let's start there," Scott said, handing Jackson his phone.

"Guys, I don't think the police are gonna be able to help," Stiles said, voicing the concerns of everyone present.

"You got any better suggestions?" Jackson quipped at the boy.

"I just mean… I think we're going to have to do this ourselves," he said, looking at his sidekick.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jackson asked, looking exasperated as he drooped his shoulder, and brought one hand to his aching head.

"I mean that I don't think the cops are going to be able to handle a supernatural kidnapping!" Stiles said enthusiastically.

Jackson dropped his hand from his head and stared at Stiles, looking at the boy as if he'd suggested the most ridiculous thing imaginable. Scott furrowed his brow, thinking through the possibility. "Don't tell me you believe him, Scott," Jackson said, looking almost manic in his disbelief.

"No," Scott said, still looking serious as he stared at the floor. "I mean, I know there's some crazy stuff out there, but ghosts? A ghost kidnapped Danny? I mean, it just sounds… crazy."

"Fine, if you guys think I'm crazy, then we'll never find Danny and the police can just waddle around finding nothing," Stiles said angrily, walking out of the house in long, angry strides.

"Wait, Stiles," Scott said, following his friend. "I'm still willing to help."

"You're both fucking crazy," Jackson called after them. He leaned out of the door as they got into Stiles' car. "I'm calling the police, so don't get in their way!"

Jackson returned to the house, closing the door behind him. He heard the piece of shit that Stiles drove around sputter to a start, then drive off. Laughing to himself, he pulled out his cell phone, dialing the police. As the phone rang, Jackson looked around at the ghost-like furniture staring back at him. A breeze passed through, causing the sheets to stir, and Jackson quickly ran outside, not bothering to close the door behind him as he made his way into a neighboring yard.


	4. Chapter 4

"I thought you said we were gonna get something to eat," Scott groaned, slouching further into the old-fashioned chair.

"We will, after I'm done," Stiles replied in a clipped tone, flipping through the pages of an old book. He was sitting at a large wooden table in the Beacon Hills Library with stacks of books covering the old piece of furniture. He sat at the edge of the matching chair, his Adderall kicking in and making him able to obsessively focus on finding information on Danny's aunt's house. He needed to know if it could be haunted.

"You're paying," Scott grumbled, rolling his around. He surveyed the dull little room once more, seeing the cheap carpets contrasting with the well designed, old wooden bookshelves. The library had gotten most of its furniture from another library that had burned down in a neighboring town. Because of this, the new, cheaply designed building's shortcomings were enhanced by the contrasts of the old, sturdy furniture. Sitting up and straightening his dark red t-shirt, Scott sat up. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, counting the tiles.

Frustrated, Stiles slammed an old book closed, unable to even find anything about the neighborhood. Apparently, nothing had happened in that house. He stood, stretching and shuffling the books on the table around before deciding to leave them for the librarian to organize. Scott looked up excitedly at his friend, hoping that he was now willing to drive them somewhere other than the library.

To Scott's dismay, he watched his friend shuffle over to a row of computers. There, Stiles began his search on the more recent history of the neighborhood. He was grateful that the computers had several advanced databases and search engines. Most of the databases were meant more for colleges, so that their students could do research, however, Beacon Hills Library had been so cheap to make that they'd had money left over. Stiles' light blue sweater sagged at the arms, the slack in the light cotton swinging as he typed furiously. Scott drew his knees up, crossing his legs in the large stuffed chair that he'd been occupying for the better part of the day.

After nearly an hour, Stiles stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. Rectifying the piece of furniture, he stormed toward the door, his eager friend hot on his heels. "I take it you didn't find anything?" Scott said innocently as they made their way out of the door.

"No, I didn't find anything," Stiles said in an angry, mocking tone.

"Dude, chill," Scott said as they reached the car. "We'll figure it out. You're Captain Obvious, you can do anything."  
A smile broke through Stiles' mask of frustration. "Yeah, it's just really frustrating. There's nothing about the house except a few ads from when it went on the market. Nobody has ever even died in there!"

Stiles opened his Jeep and sat in the driver's seat, looking plaintively at the steering wheel. Scott settled into the passenger seat, watching his friend sink deep into thought. "Well, why don't we just go there and have a look?" Scott suggested.

Stiles looked up from his thoughts, his face a deadpan. "Because…" he drifted off, looking at the steering wheel again. He let his head drop, hitting his forehead on the steering wheel as he realized that Scott's suggestion would have been a lot more informative and a lot less time-consuming. He put the keys into the ignition and backed out of the parking spot, heading toward the crime scene that they'd visited the night before.

"We're still getting food, right?" Scott said as they drove off.

Once again, Stiles parked a few blocks away. He was aware that it would look suspicious for the two of them to just walk into a crime scene, especially if anyone saw them the night before. They'd already been questioned by the police the night before, after corroborating stories to hide the fact that Scott is a wolf. Although they'd been released, they were both still considered people of interest in the case. They walked to the house, trying to seem innocuous as they returned to the scene of the crime.

Stiles was surprised to find that the house still looked menacingly disarming. Despite the fact that it was no longer glowing creepily in the moonlight, the house still had the too-perfect feel of a haunted dollhouse in a horror movie. The overall effect was heightened by the police tape covering the front door. Trying to seem casual, the two boys strolled down the lawn, Scott following Stiles. As they reached the fence, Scott quickly grabbed the boy by his armpits and jumped over the fence, landing gracefully in the backyard. He hoped that he'd managed to do it quickly enough to evade any potential onlookers.

With their backs to the house, Stiles and Scott made their way to the back door. This, too, was covered in police tape. Continuing along the back wall of the house, they made their way to one of the windows. Side by side, the two boys peered into the glass, covering their eyes to shade the glare. They saw more police tape inside, with small cards with letters on them signifying potential evidence. Stiles turned his back to the window, crossing his arms as he thought, pacing around the small yard.

"We could probably use your claws to cut a hole just big enough in the glass for me to slip through. Then I could go in, look around, and slip out easily. You could stand guard in case anyone comes by. You could whistle something if anyone is approaching. Of course, how are we going to get the glass back in the window?" Stiles said, almost to himself, as he paced around thoughtfully.

"Uh, Stiles?" Scott said, looking at his friend from the window.

"What?" Stiles snapped, annoyed. He turned around to face his friend, and saw that the boy was standing inside of the house, looking through the open window with a bemused look on his crooked jaw.

"You coming?" the Wolf asked playfully.

Grumbling, Stiles walked over and climbed through the window. Together, the two boys began searching through the old house. The sunlight coming through the windows did little to dampen the oppressive atmosphere of the house. The old, covered furniture still stood in the dark room, looking like a convention for ghosts. The dark wallpaper and old floors seemed to suck up light, making the house seem even more somber. Together, Scott and Stiles looked through most of the antique furniture under the covers, and continued to look in every nook and cranny of the living room and the old stairs. When they were satisfied that nothing suspicious was in the room, the moved on to the hallway.

Scott and Stiles studied the scene of the crime, looking at where they'd seen Danny disappear. They separated as Stiles wandered down the hall, stomping loudly on the old floorboards as he went. Scott looked up as the boy continued down the hallway, making noise. He considered asking, but figured he was somehow tested the floorboards. Stiles finally got to the door that led into the kitchen. He stopped, and got down onto the floor. Reaching up to open the door, he ran his fingers along the seams between the planks of wooden flooring. Scott tested the other windows, trying to see if there was an obvious way out that the assailant could have taken without them noticing.

"Aha!" Stiles exclaimed from down the hall. Scott moved his attention from the windows, looking at the source of the noise. He was alarmed to find that his friend was missing.

"Stiles?" he called out, looking around worriedly.

A trap door opened in the area between the kitchen and the hallway, and Stiles' head popped out. The door looked just like a part of the floors; it was nearly flawlessly hidden. "Dude, come here! Check this out!" Stiles said excitedly, disappearing down into the floor again.

"Is this really safe?" Scott mumbled as he walked down the hallway. He crouched down, looking into the new opening in the floor. He tested the hinges of the trap door, trying to figure out how it managed to be so well hidden. The hole was dark, with a dimly illuminated ladder leading down to a stone floor. Mustering his courage, Scott delved deeper into the house.

The door led into a long tunnel that seemed to run the length of the house, if not further. Scott was unsure if it was a basement or something larger, since it clearly extended beyond the house's foundations. Stiles ran up to him, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "Isn't this awesome?" he said happily, his voice echoing down the hall.

"What is it?" Scott asked, looking around at the tunnel. There was only one door visible in the light coming from the hallway above.

"It's the old basement. They must've kept it when they built the new house. The old one was a lot bigger," Stiles said, opening the door. It creaked on its rusty hinges, and dust filled the air. "It's more like a series of tunnels."

"How do you know all this?" Scott asked, choking as he swatted the dust away from his face. Stiles continued to explore the hallway like an excited little kid.

"Well, all of that research wasn't a _total_ waste of time. There used to be a bigger house here, but they tore it down a long time ago to put in the whole neighborhood. Danny's aunt's house was probably built on top of where the old one was," Stiles said, taking out his cell phone. He held it up so that its luminescence could light the dark basement. His sweater and sneakers were now covered in dust, and the knees of his dark washed jeans were caked with dirt from where he'd been on his knees in the new area.

"So, there's a totally logical explanation for how Danny disappeared?" Scott asked, with an assured sound of finality in his voice.

"Not quite," Stiles said, a surprised look on his eager face as he turned away from a door at the end of the hallway.

Scott walked cautiously through the dark, following the boy as he disappeared through the decaying wooden door. Inside, there was a small room that looked just like the tunnel outside. Scott could see a few of the items crowding the room as they were illuminated by Stiles' phone. He swept the light over the room, showing Scott the horrific objects in an eerie, ghostly radiance as their shadows danced in the passing illumination. Though he didn't get to see any of the décor for more than a few seconds, Scott picked out the skull of some sort of animal, a small altar with etchings in the wood, several vials and cups, and a very old leather-bound book opened to show strange symbols. From the brief glimpse of the room, Scott felt sure that they were standing in some sort of demonic altar.

"What the hell?" Scott screamed, backing out of the room.

"Don't you see?" Stiles said excitedly. "Maybe there is something paranormal going on!"

"Yeah, and it's with your head, Stiles. Get out of there before something happens," Scott retorted.

"Yeah, like what?" Stiles replied, smirking.

"Like a big angry ghost comes and kidnaps you, too," Scott said. The grin faded quickly from Stiles' face, and he looked around the room, now remembering that he, too, could be a victim of whatever happened to Danny. Grabbing the book, the joined Scott in the hallway, and together, they climbed into the sunlight. Both boys were relieved to be back in the light-filled hallway.

Scott looked at Stiles' hand, noticing the souvenir he'd brought. "You took the book?" Scott asked in disbelief as he closed the trapdoor with his foot. He watched as Stiles turned it over in his hands, his finger saving the page to which the book had been open. The cover of the book was simple, with dark leather and an odd symbol stamped onto the front in ancient-looking ink. "What _is_ that thing?"

"Demonic Conjuring for Dummies," Stiles joked, opening the tome to the page that his finger had been saving.

He looked at the old pages, his eyes going over the words. Before he even has time to read the rest of the passage, the title alone gives the boy cause for alarm. "Scott, we have to go see Jackson," Stiles said, handing his friend the keys to his Jeep.

As the boys made their way to Jackson's house, Stiles sat in the passenger seat, reading as Scott drove. "Listen, the title of this page says 'The Ghost of Revenge'," Stiles said, keeping his eyes on the volume.

"So what?" Scott asked, looking back and forth between the road and the book in Stiles' lap.

"Basically, this seems to be some kind of, like, manual for casting spells or whatever. So this page is about summoning an 'entity to avenge love in secret'. I'm pretty sure that it says that if anyone has a secret affair in your house after you've done the whole… spell…thing, something is gonna come and…" Stiles trailed off, unsure of the specifics of the punishment.

"That doesn't make any sense," said Scott. "Why would a ghost come and drag Danny away?"

Stiles looked at his friend with a deadpan, giving him a look that implied that the answer to his question was obvious. Just then, they pulled into the Whittemore's driveway, and Stiles got out of the Jeep without responding to Scott's question.

Scott had to jog to catch up with his friend, who was already ringing the doorbell by the time the Wolf had gotten out of the car. They stood together, watching the door swing open to reveal Jackson in a pair of pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt. His face was drawn and tired-looking and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. "What the hell do you guys want?" Jackson asked, sniffling.

"We have some questions for you about the case," Stiles said, not missing a beat in his mystery-solving whirlwind.

"Just let the fucking cops handle it," Jackson said, turning and starting to close the door.

Stiles stopped the door with his foot, looking seriously into his teammate's eyes. "Wouldn't you rather know that you did absolutely everything to help Danny, rather than just sitting around and crying?" he asked, sounding sympathetic.

A moment of anger flashed across the boy's face, followed by a sort of acceptance. "Fine," he said turning around to face the boys again. "What do you want to know?"

"First," Stiles said, pushing in front of him to get face-to-face, "did anyone know about you and Danny?"

Annoyance plagued Jackson's gaunt face. "No, I wanted to keep it a secret," he said briskly, avoiding the subject.

"Are you sure," Stiles inquired further.

Scott took his friend by the shoulder, getting between him and the increasingly aggravated boy. "I think he means to say that it's really important that we know whether or not anyone had any idea about you two," Scott said, finally understanding Stiles' implication in the car. He rested a hand sympathetically on Jackson's shoulder.

"No, nobody knew," he said curtly, shrugging away from Scott's hand.

"And what do you know about Danny's aunt?" Stiles asked.

"Not a whole lot," Jackson answered, shifting his weight to the other foot. "She's kind of old, and has been traveling for a while now. She left without her husband, which I guess was weird. I think they took separate trips or something."

Stiles' eyes lit up as he realized that his assumptions were correct. "Do you know if Danny's uncle was always… faithful?"

"You mean like religious?" Jackson answered. "I'm not sure, but I know she was always a little weird about religion. Apparently, when she was younger, she was into Wicca, but as she aged, she got a little… crazier."

"No, I mean-" Stiles blurted out rudely, but was stopped by Scott's hand landing roughly on his shoulder.

"That's actually really helpful, but I think Stiles wants to know if he ever had an affair," Scott said pleasantly.

"Oh, yeah, that was apparently a big thing," Jackson said, confused. "He was one of those guys that was always sleeping around. Nobody really understood why they stayed together, but she always deluded herself into believing that he went on a lot of 'business trips'."

Stiles opened his mouth to push the boy further, but Scott stopped him. "Thank you, I think we have enough to confirm what we've been thinking," Scott said.

"You mean you really think a ghost did it?" Jackson said, laughing.

"We're pretty sure," Stiles said, almost smugly. "Now listen, I have an idea. I saw a page in here about vanquishing ghosts. You guys meet me at Danny's aunt's house tonight at nine o'clock, and read up about Ghostbusting 101. Bring whatever you'll need, and stay downstairs."

The two boys looked at Stiles, confused. "What do you mean?" Scott said as his companion began to walk toward his car.

"I mean you two figure out how to get rid of it, and I'll help get it to you!" Stiles called, getting into his car.

"But I'm not-" Jackson began shouting at the boy.

"Nine o'clock!" Stiles yelled out of the window as he backed out of the driveway. He narrowly missed the mailbox as he sped off in his Jeep, heading toward an unknown destination.

Scott and Jackson stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments, Scott hold the old book in his hands. "So… He was my ride," Scott said.

Jackson opened the door wider, and the two boys walked into the house, beginning to plan how to rid themselves of a ghost and get Danny back.


	5. Chapter 5

Scott sat awkwardly on a sheet-covered couch, using his thumbnail to scrape some of the residual dirt from the knee of his jeans. Jackson leaned against the wall, avoiding looking at the other boy in the room. He was worried that Scott would see the fear in his eyes at returning to the supernatural crime scene. The two boys had spent the last several hours together, reading the chapters in the book about vanquishing ghosts and undoing spells. Scott was excited to ride in his teammate's Porsche as they went out to gather the ingredients that they needed. As they got out in public, Jackson developed an icy air of haughty superiority, like a wound healing over. When it was just the two of them, Jackson was more vulnerable, sitting around in his pajamas and opening up about the disappearance of his boyfriend. Scott was under the impression that they'd bonded after having a heart-to-heart about their insecurities and worries. He'd found the boy in a vulnerable state, and managed to see the real Jackson.

This was why the boy was disappointed to find that, as Jackson put on his expensive polo and designer jeans, and as they got into his expensive car and drove through the high-end neighborhood, he returned to his usual steely coldness. He responded to Scott's questions curtly, looking smug, his face an arrogant mask carved in marble.

Pulling the plastic bag of ghost-fighting equipment closer to him, Scott reviewed the contents, making sure that everything was ready once again. There was a small red box of rock salt, a bundle of dried sage tied with yellow tape, and a little white disposable lighter. Rolling his head back to the headrest, Scott moaned in boredom. Jackson checked his watch, asking "Stiles said nine, right?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," Scott said, raising his head upright.

"Fuckin' jerk," Jackson said, pushing off from the wall to pace around the room a bit.

"You know, you could be nicer. He is doing you a favor," Scott reminded the boy.

"Whatever," Jackson threw over his shoulder, idly examining the mantle of the fireplace.

"What's your problem, dude?" Scott asked, fed up. "You were so nice earlier, now you're being a total ass. Y'know, you don't have to keep everyone at arm's length."  
"Oh, thank you for your psychoanalysis Dr. Scott," Jackson said, spinning around to face the darker boy.

"I get it. You finally find someone that you can connect to, and who you can open up to, and he gets stolen by a ghost. It sucks, and it makes sense that you'd be distant, but you can't just be a slave to your emotions," Scott said angrily. Jackson looked taken aback by his dense teammate's unexpected outburst. In reality, these were mostly things that he'd heard Stiles say about Jackson before, but he agreed with his friend.

A heavy silence weighed upon the duo as Jackson digested the new perspective. He opened his mouth, his brow furrowing as he began to speak. "I don't really-"

He was cut off by a loud sound from the staircase. Scott jumped off of the couch, crouching low in a fighting stance and facing the stairs. A thumping sound got closer as something descended the stairs. Jackson tensed his muscles, and Scott could smell anticipation and fear coming from him. As the figure stepped into the moonlight, Scott was unsurprised to see that it was the same dark figure from the night that Danny had disappeared.

The hulking figure turned the corner off of the stairs, heading back-first to the hallway. In the pale light, the boys could see that he was dragging Stiles by the elbows, the boy limply unconscious. Scott sprang into action, grabbing the box of salt as he jumped over the couch, ripping the box open with his fangs. Salt spilled across the floor as he cast a line of the white substance in the path of the figure. The tall, broad man stopped as his feet neared the line of salt, unable to pass.

Working quickly, Scott surrounded the entity in a circle of salt, making him unable to move. As he did so, Jackson took the sage and the lighter from the bag, holding the lighter beneath the herb. He locked eyes with the ghost, realizing now that Stiles was right; they were definitely dealing with a ghost. His hands froze and he began to tremble with fear as he looked into the dead eyes. Suddenly, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Scott looked at his fallen friend, worried.

Jumping to his comrade, he moved the boy behind the couch to remove him from the line of fire. He grabbed the sage and the lighter, turning to face the ghost. Derek ran down the stairs then, shirtless and looking furiously angry. He observed the scene, unsure of what to make of the unexpected turn of events.

The summoned entity looked deeply into the eyes of Derek, then Scott. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Wolves," he mumbled. His deep voice had several layers to it, each sounding like a different demonic voice speaking the same word in unison. Some quality of the voice made the wolves' sensitive ears hurt, both Scott and Derek reaching up to cover their ringing ears.

As the sound reverberating through Scott's head subsided, the boy remembered his task and held the sage and lighter up. The ghost seemed to understand the boy's intention, for he lifted Stiles up, pulling a hand tightly around the human's vulnerable throat. The two had a face-off, each unflinching in his threat to kill. Derek stood by helplessly, watching the scene unfold with no idea of what was happening.

Scott broke the tension first, turning his head to cough. Suddenly, the boy was unable to control himself, doubling over in a coughing fit. He looked down, and saw that wolf's bane was growing through the floorboards, gathering around his feet. Before he had time to react, both he and Derek fell to the floor, convulsing in a violent allergic reaction. Their skin began to redden, and hives rose from their skin.

The entity looked around at the room full of passed out humans. He realized that he was stuck in the circle, and began to look for a break in the circle big enough to step through. Scott had fallen partially on top of the circle, dropping with his arms in the circle. Poking the boy's arms with his boot, he tried to make a break in the biding circle of salt. He looked down at the boy in his arms, considering his possibilities.

What he saw gave pause to the weathered demon: he'd finally been outsmarted. He looked down just in time to see the pale boy bring the sprig of burning sage to his face, the scent of the smoke filling his nostrils and sending jolts of pain through his otherworldly body. Stiles slipped from his broad arms, crawling away as the entity writhed in pain. Jackson, Scott, and Derek awoke then, the powers keeping them unconscious having been broken. The wolf's bane disappeared as fire erupted around the figure, the flames dragging him beneath the floorboards and into the earth.

All four people sat watching the flames for a moment. They all shared a disbelief of what had happened in front of their eyes. Stiles broke the silence, looking over at Jackson and saying "Hey, are you forgetting something?"

Jackson looked at the boy, and then remembered suddenly, running up the stairs. He returned a few moments later with a hairbrush. Pulling a few strands of hair from the bristles, he dropped the fibers into the fire. As they struck the fire, a few blue sparks flew from the point of contact. These sparks jumped to the floor, making a small burn mark. They continued to jump on the floor, growing around the burn mark until a small hole opened in the wood. The blue sparks continued to eat away at the edges of the wood, making the hole grow.

The sparks ceased to eat away at the wood, and Danny was ejected unceremoniously from the opening, flopping onto the floor. He was still wearing the clothes that he'd been wearing when he disappeared. Jackson scrambled over to the boy, embracing him wordlessly. Together, the two boys stood, the darker boy leaning on his boyfriend as he took in his new surroundings.

"You're home, now," Jackson said, helping him limp toward the door. The other three followed them, making their way from the burning house. Together, Danny, Jackson, Stiles, Derek, and Scott stood on the grass, watching the flames inside spread throughout the house. A somber silence pervaded the night air as they watched, tiredly leaning against one another for support. A sort of camaraderie flowed between them, like soldiers returning from war.

"Congratulations, Captain Obvious," Scott said, slapping Stiles on the shoulder. At the broken silence, a mumble of giddy laughter waved through the exhausted group. They laughed in spite of themselves, in spite of the building being consumed by hellfire in front of them, and in spite of the horrors that they had endured.

After everyone had giver their deposition to the police, they agreed to gather at Jackson's house. He and Danny wanted to properly thank everyone, and clear up a few questions that they all had. The five people sat around the expansive living room, sprawled out on the comfortable furniture. Danny and Jackson were laying on a couch side-by-side, and Derek sat in a chair with Stiles sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the wolf's knees. Scott was splayed lazily across another chair, his feet hanging off of one arm as his head rested against the edge of the headrest.

"Okay, so first, how did you guys summon him?" Jackson asked, looking at Stiles and Derek.

"Well," Stiles said, his pale face blushing, "he gets summoned when there's a secret affair going on in the house."

Danny covered his mouth as he tried to suppress a laugh, and Scott's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked at the pair, realizing they were a couple. Derek brought his hand down to Stiles' head, rubbing the short buzzcut lovingly.

"I had no idea what was going on," Derek said, slightly annoyed. "He just invited me over to some strange house and insisted that we… make out, and then the next thing I know, something's pulling me off of him. He locked me in a closet!"

Danny, Stiles, and Scott laughed at this image, and Jackson shifted uncomfortably at the memory of his own encounter. A moment of silence fell between the five, each momentarily getting lost in their own memories. Stiles looked up at Danny from the floor, and quietly asked "So what was it like? You know, wherever you ended up?" His tone was conspiratorial, like he was talking about a secret amongst friends.

Jackson could feel Danny shudder next to him, and wrapped a thick arm around his shoulders. "It was… weird. I was in the basement, in one of the tunnels. Except, it was like, not actually there. I don't know, like I was in a basement that looked exactly like my aunt's, except in a different place," Danny said, his eyes looking toward the ground. "I guess it wasn't… so bad. I mean, nothing all that bad happened. Really, I just waited around. It felt a lot longer than a day, though."

"So what about your aunt?" Scott asked, trying to change the uncomfortable subject.

"Oh, the police found her. Apparently, she took all of the money out of her bank accounts and went on a cruise with some guy half her age. She expected my uncle to have an affair while she was gone. He did, but he went to her house in Washington. There's not much that the police can do, since she technically didn't do anything. Also, the police have no idea about the whole… demonic conjuring thing," he said, with a tone of bitter humor. They'd all agreed before the police got there to say that they found Danny in the basement, and that the kidnapper had set the fire.

"I don't envy those police," Derek said darkly.

"Yeah," Stiles chimed in, "They're never gonna figure this one out."

"So how long have you and Derek been… seeing each other?" Danny asked Stiles, asking the question that had been on Scott's mind since they'd announced their relationship.

Derek took the question, seeing Stiles' face turn red. "We've sort of been… bantering back and forth. Stiles made his first… official move last night. Of course, that didn't exactly go as planned."

Hearing this put Scott's mind at ease. He felt uncomfortable knowing that the two people to whom he was closest had been having an affair behind his back. It wasn't that they were involved, but that they had a secret from him. There was an awkward silence in which nobody was sure of the proper thing to say.

"So, Danny and I are going… public with our relationship," Jackson said, somewhat grudgingly.

"Why now?" Stiles asked.

Jackson's face contorted a bit, unhappy to be talking about his feelings. Danny picked up the question. "After what we went through, we thought it was about time. We kind of realized that we may not always have each other, so we may as well make the most of what we have."

"It was a lot less morbid than that," Jackson grumbled.

"So what's next for Captain Obvious?" Scott asked teasingly.

"Oh, this isn't the end," Stiles said mischievously.

Scott grinned at his best friend's smirk. He had seen that glint in his eye before. "Just promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" Stiles asked.  
"Next time I want a cape," Scott replied with a wide grin.  
The other four boys face palmed themselves in unison, shaking their heads.


End file.
